(o) you're not the same, you died along the way

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

The way she says it stirs some discomfort in Sunjata, unsure if she meant to combine the similarities between herself and Nate in that instance. But at least for Sunjata, he knew he was getting Nate back. It was simply a waiting game. It still doesn’t prevent his head from ducking a little, as he reaches for the little pieces of paper to start intertwining around the frame of the lantern, humming a response to her own admission. “Understandable.” She wasn’t the same person these days as far as he could tell. “I still have the lantern I made you.” It’s said a bit offhanded, the Flood twisting the pieces of paper to keep them sitting and give them some amount of texture before he can glue them into place.

His gaze only lifts to scan her again when her next comment comes, something to know about Nate which truthfully intrigues him. What was she to tell him about his husband that he didn’t already know? Hasn’t he been with the Lone Ranger for long enough now to know intimately everything that has happened? He likes to think that the roles are reversed on that, too. That he harbors no secrets from Nate either.

But he’s in a good mood and he sets the lantern down, focusing up toward her pale face, letting his head tilt slightly. “Well you caught me in a rare good mood all things considered, so…” He trails off with a shrug. “What is it?”

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end